Signs of a Toxic Boss, and the Fear Underneath It

Almost nobody wakes up and decides to become a toxic boss.

Keep that in mind as you look for the signs of a toxic boss. Maybe there's a specific manager you're thinking of. Maybe you're planning a leadership event and you know there are a few people in the room who make others miserable. Either way, the picture most of us carry, the cartoon villain rubbing their hands, gets in the way of seeing what's actually happening.

The book I wrote on leadership gives this pattern a name: the Autocrat. The uncomfortable truth about this pattern is that the worst leaders aren't the ones with no talent. They're the ones who have plenty of it, plenty of skill too, and use both to take people somewhere bad.

It starts as something healthy

Harm almost never begins with a plan to hurt anyone. It begins with something good: a strong drive to build something for yourself.

I want to be clear about this, because it matters. Looking after yourself isn't selfish. It's necessary. A manager who wants to succeed, earn well and be recognized is not the problem.

The problem starts when that drive crosses a line. It gets so narrow and so addictive that any means feels justified, including means that cost someone else. The drive didn't change direction. It just stopped noticing who was standing in the way.

That's why the early version is so hard to spot. From the outside it looks like ambition. And we reward ambition.

Six signs worth taking seriously

Here's what I look for. Not one of these alone makes someone toxic. Together, they form a pattern.

1. People walk away from them smaller. In my book I map communication by who gains and who loses. One side of that map is where the person on the receiving end leaves weaker, less confident, less capable. If that's how people regularly come out of meetings with a manager, pay attention.

2. There's a revolving door. A leader who keeps winning at other people's expense ends up having to replace the people around them again and again. That takes a huge amount of effort. And over time they settle for people who fit less well, or who can't be trusted.

3. People turn into functions. When you keep putting yourself ahead of others, your mind builds a justification so you don't have to feel bad about it. Slowly, the people become objects. Tools. Headcount. You can hear it in how they talk about their team.

4. They need to keep proving they're above everyone. This one runs in a loop. Their sense of being above others pushes them to put people down. Putting people down hurts. Hurt people pull away. When people pull away, the boss gets lonely. And the loneliness makes them need to feel bigger than everyone even more. Then it starts again.

5. They keep pushing even when it stops paying. This is the strangest sign, and the most telling. The damage keeps growing while the benefit to them keeps shrinking. They're no longer doing it because it works. They're doing it because they've already convinced themselves they're above everyone, and that story gives them permission to keep going.

6. Everything is scarce. Someone else's win feels like their loss. In one of my courses I talk about the belief that there's only so much to go around: if I live in a world where every bit of money I take comes out of someone else's pocket, it affects far more than money. The same belief shows up around goodwill, help and love. A manager who lives in that world has a hard time imagining a win where both sides come out ahead.

Why organizations keep them around

Here's what makes this so confusing for a company. For a while, their numbers can look fine. Pressure produces output, at least at first.

But look at what it costs to keep that engine running. Every person who leaves has to be replaced, and that takes real effort, again and again. And the huge advantage of long-term relationships, with people you trust and who trust you, never gets the chance to build.

And there's a cost they pay themselves. Someone who treats people as objects ends up surrounded by objects. However senior they are, that's a lonely place to lead from.

Most people who fit this pattern aren't villains on a grand scale. Luckily, most of them don't have the talent to do damage on a historic level. What they do is quieter and steadier: they keep hurting the people closest to them, until those people want nothing to do with them.

The fear underneath

So why would a smart, capable person keep doing something that costs them more and more?

Because it's not really about the team. The need to prove they're superior, to themselves and everyone else, sits on a deep terror of being inferior. Their disregard for others comes from a sense of security so underdeveloped that they can't see abundance at all. Only scarcity.

I write in the book about a fear that almost everyone carries, and how it shows up in a thousand disguises. Overworking. Procrastinating. Constant pressure. And yes, exploiting people who are weaker than you. Some of these disguises are fairly harmless. Some do damage that's very hard to undo. None of them treat the root. They numb it for a while.

Managers need to hear this part. The toxic boss isn't strong. They're scared, and the behavior is the painkiller.

The antidote: seeing people whole

Every fearful leadership pattern I describe in the book calls for a different kind of courage. For the Autocrat, it's the courage to see other people as complete human beings, with their own wants, motivations and depth. The courage to connect. To care. And to accept that after you've given yourself fully, some of them may leave, let you down or even betray you.

I know this one from the inside.

There were periods when I noticed I was connecting less with the people who worked with me. You invest in someone, they get good, and then they leave for something else. So, without really deciding to, I cared a bit less. If I care less, it hurts less when they go. People make the same move on a date. Scared of getting hurt, they stay careful and cool and never let themselves get excited.

It feels like protection. What it actually does is drain the passion out of how you lead the people you work with.

Offering yourself fully to people is a gift, and it's a gift exactly because it means risking pain. That's also why so many people hold it back.

Two ideas help me here. First, the places where you feel insecure don't make you worth less than anyone else. Every person you manage has fears that look a lot like yours, just dressed differently. Once you see past the walls people build around themselves, a lot more becomes possible, for them and for you.

Second, people come whole. The trait you like in someone usually has a side you find harder to love. The employee whose depth you admire may also be the one who takes conflict hard. Seeing someone whole means seeing both.

What this means if you're planning a leadership event

Here's something I point out early in the book: a group gives its leader power. If every employee walked out tomorrow, the company would stop. So when a manager keeps treating people as replaceable, they're slowly spending the very thing that makes them a leader.

That's why I don't think a leadership session should turn into a hunt for villains. I'd rather not spend the time pointing at the worst manager in the building. What I'd rather give every leader in the room is an honest way to look at themselves: how they actually behave, what they say to themselves in their own head, and which part of their leadership is the weakest right now. That's where the work starts.

Where No Suit Required comes in

That's the thinking behind my keynote, No Suit Required. It's based on my book of the same name and built around the TRUE model, my framework for authentic leadership. The focus is the kind of leadership people choose to follow, rather than just put up with.